


Three Months in London

by Flipscribble55



Category: Stalking Jack the Ripper - Kerri Maniscalco
Genre: 1911, Carnival, Moonlight Carnival, Romance, historical London
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-29
Updated: 2019-04-14
Packaged: 2019-12-26 01:39:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18273176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flipscribble55/pseuds/Flipscribble55
Summary: The Moonlight Carnival is finally taking a three-month vacation after years of building an outstanding reputation after the murders that threatened to end their show before it even began. But now with their scheduled stop finding them in London, Ayden is torn about being in the same city as the love he lost, but his adopted son, Luc, meets someone who knocks him off his feet.





	1. Chapter 1

Sitting on a real bed felt surreal. The plush duvet sunk as he rested his hands on either side of his legs, relishing the softness. His bed on the road wasn’t uncomfortable perse, it just wasn’t a king size pile of feathers and pillows and they rarely stayed at the inns when rolling through a city. It was easier to have everyone nearby, staying in their respective trailers in case something had to be worked out. 

They had been so busy traveling that they hadn't scheduled a proper break in ages. But business was good, people kept buying tickets to the Moonlight Carnival and more and more requests kept showing up in the mail to travel to new cities.  
  
But after years of performances, they finally had built enough of a reputation and had enough in their coffers to take a three-month break after their last few shows in London. Three whole months of sight-seeing, normal sleep schedules, planning for new acts, and being civilized citizens of one city for more than a few weeks at a time would be a weird but welcomed change.  
  
They hadn't been in Europe for years, mostly sticking to the popularity of their show in North America touring through America and Canada. But when he mentioned where and when their break would leave them many of his performers jumped at the chance to stay in London or had family nearby they were itching to see.  
  
It amazed him that he had done it. The last 20 years had gone better than he planned, more or less. One of the lowest points had struck within the early days of his career, the murders that threatened to ruin his show before they even had a chance to take off, and loss of his first love to another. The high point was when he had adopted his son, Luc, 10 years ago after finding him in a storage compartment on the train. He was skin and bones, but his hazel eyes were keen and observant as he was taken to the main car when he was found.  
  
 _“Everyone wants to be a part of this magic act, but tell me why I shouldn't call the police and have you taken back to Quebec?”_ _  
_ _  
_ _The small boy squared his shoulders and kept those eyes on him but said nothing._ _  
_ _  
_ _“Do you speak English? How old are you what's your name? Is there a parent to call?”_ _  
_ _  
_ _He took a deep breath and shut his eyes, “Monsieur, please, I won't be any trouble. I'm 8, my parents are dead, and I would prefer working myself to death traveling than staying in that sweatshop of an orphanage another moment,” then he softly added, “I'm Luc.”_ _  
_ _  
_ _He had a heavy French accent but spoke well for an 8-year-old boy. Looking him over more closely there were dark, angry bruises poking out of his tattered shirt, his collarbones jutted out so much the hollows of his throat could have held water._ _  
_ _  
_ _“What are your interests, Luc?” it wasn't as if they couldn't use the help, and this wasn't the first time someone had snuck into a car to join us at the next stop. Many of our stagehands came from similar circumstances with sad stories. Men fleeing their wives, women fleeing arranged marriages, everyone in this show and a story. The glory was that once they donned their costumes and personas they were able to write a new narrative._ _  
_ _  
_ __With that, he perked up, began talking about how he did like fixing the machines when they broke down, that he had gotten quite good at it. He hadn't mastered all of the mechanics and developed a slight fear of them only because the guards rarely turned the machines off when he had to climb in and fix them.   
  
The rest you could say is history. And for the last 5 years, he had been grooming Luc to take over as the ringmaster of the mayhem that is the Midnight Carnival. 

Growing older hadn't been too hard on Ayden, not with Luc by his side. But he wanted to enjoy his work, tinker with gears with his son and just sit back and enjoy the show he had given up everything to create.   
  
They hadn't intended on stopping in London, it was just where the natural break of the season took hold. There was usually an odd gap of time in late spring where they went a month between shows, but blocking out additional time for a break had never been done before. The acts had to be refreshed, canvas repaired, animals were being sent to rented farmlands to stretch their legs, but having most of the summer off was unheard of. Their train had rolled in last night, their opening night was tomorrow, then it was one week of shows then three months of the same place.   
  
He was actually looking forward to the monotony of day to day life.   
  
There was that pang that shot through him at the mention of London, though. When he had told the crew where they would be stopping there were whoops of excitement to be in a big city that wasn't in North America. The entertainment they could see, the bar stools they could occupy, the performers and staff were very ready to enjoy themselves.   
  
But for him, it reminded him of her. The great lost love of his life.   
  
From the few times Ayden had picked up a newspaper on the road he knew that she had stayed with him. That they had become even more famous over the years with their research and cases solved. That she was still stunning, the exact shade of her emerald eyes burned into his memory. Seeing through him even in black and white newsprint.    
  
Ayden had gotten thoroughly drunk when he read their wedding announcement. At the photo of her in a beautiful gown that hugged her figure, to the man beside her who had so much love shining in his expression that it still made Ayden sick to think about all these years later.   
  
He still loved her, wished for that alternate timeline where he had met her first. Had stolen her heart and her brilliant mind to go on the road with him to create amazing marvels that would wow everyone who saw. That they would still find Luc but have children of their own to overrun the performer's tents and acts. Children that would have been doted on by everyone who met them, that would travel the world.   
  
But, he had Luc. That sweet boy who had become more family to him than anyone ever had even from before he left home, not even his performers. Luc was the only person Ayden let in, that called him “father,” who saw the man beneath the mask.   
  
Luc said he had to go out to find a few things for something he was working on. So Ayden donned his mask, becoming Mephistopheles as he stepped out into the night to go find some dinner and to check in on the setup of their tent for the show tomorrow. 

* * *

 

Luc had been wandering the streets for hours. He had only gotten out to explore today, but he loved London. The chaos and dirt, the history in every building, and how those histories had nothing to do with his past.

  
His father had been unusually withdrawn since arriving. When the announcement was made they were stopping in London he had simply walked out of the room. No witty remark or flirty glance tossed at anyone as he slipped from the celebrations of their vacation.   
  
Now as he found the shop he was looking for he dodged carriages, automobiles, and pedestrians as he crossed the street into the clock shop.   
  
After stepping in he was so relieved, it was exactly what he was hoping for. There were clocks covering one entire wall, their ticking synchronized so closely that it appeared that they were all one machine. The other side of the room had bins of parts, Luc had found that clock shops usually had the best selection of spare pieces. They were also much cleaner than those you can scrounge up in a scrap yard, so you know exactly what you're getting.   
  
“Can I help you with something?” Asked an elderly gentleman behind the counter.   
  
“ _ Oui _ , do you happen to have a box of spare parts that you're willing to part with for a fee?”   
  
The man looked Luc over from behind the counter. He had shot up in his teen years, and even though he was only 18, he bulked up thanks to all the physical work the Moonlight Carnival required and a proper diet with extra helpings piled on his plate by his carnival family. His clothes were pressed and clean, and owned whatever hat that was currently in fashion. He straightened his shoulders, standing as tall as he could and removed his hat to tuck it under his arm. 

  
The one thing his father refused to stand for was having his carnival family look like vagrants when they entered a town. Every few months a team of tailors would come and measure everyone for new items to keep them fashionable and presentable. Father always said townsfolk wouldn’t be able to talk ill of the performers because of our fine appearance and would be thrilled when money was spent on dinners and evening entertainment.   
  
“Are you part of that menagerie that is performing tomorrow night?”   
  
The question itself could have been rude, but his tone was blunter. This man was direct.    
  
Luc was moving the brim of his hat through his fingers as he answered, “ _ Oui _ , yes. I'm looking for a few more parts for a new display we're hoping to offer, sir.”   
  
The man stared then nodded over to the bin. “Take what you need, bring them to me when you're done and we'll talk price.”   
  
With a quick nod, Luc turned towards the bins, thinking of the different mechanisms that he and his father were working on as he started examining parts and gears and picturing the equipment sitting on his and his father’s workbench in their cars.   
  
He wasn’t sure how much time passed, but the door opened again and a cheery “Mister Rolland!” sounded from the door.   
  
The man Luc had met was cold and all business, the man that responded to this woman was warm and inviting.   
  
“Well! What a surprise, Miss. I didn’t expect you back so soon! Were the parts I gave you last time not sufficient?”   
  
A woman engineer? Luc’s interest spiked as he tried to discreetly look over his shoulder at the woman who was walking up to the counter and was talking to the man like they were old friends. She was tall and slim, her waist cinched in tight and wore a dress that looked like it could have been in two pieces, a pinstripe shirt with a high collar and a straight blue skirt with brown heeled boots with a small brown leather bag in her hand.   
  
“Mister Rolland, you never could steer me wrong! But I do need a few more pieces and your expertise for a different project, Pari turns 13 next week and I’ve been working on a new toy for her but I’m having trouble figuring out this bit.”   
  
Her voice was smooth and confident. Luc tried to go back to examine the pieces in front of him, but he had to see her face, see what she was building. He never had this pull to anyone before, but a woman talking about crafting had piqued his interests.   
  
Grabbing the bits of machinery in a handkerchief he made his way over to the counter and walked to the woman’s left. Peering at the plans it looked like she was constructing a mechanical dog, but there were sketches and drawings scratched all over the page, like her hand couldn’t keep up with her brain as she worked.   
  
The man behind the counter stiffened when he saw Luc, “Did you find what you were looking for?”   
  
At that, the woman turned, and Luc was stunned. She had pronounced cheekbones and deep green eyes, her dark chestnut hair was neatly pinned up under a large hat. She was also much younger than her voice had led on, she could have even been around the same age as him. The front of her shirt was secured with a short tie, her navy hat had a brown hat band, and pearl buttons gleamed down her shirt. He couldn’t tear his eyes from hers as he whispered, “ _ Oui. _ ”   
  
A small smile played on her face as Mister Rolland cleared his throat, “Let me see what you have, I’ll tell you my price.”    
  
Luc snapped out of his trance and splayed the parts on the counter. The man grunted out a price and he dug some coins out of his pocket and placed them in his outstretched hand.   
  
“Well, if that’s all. Good luck with the show.”   
  
Bristling at the dismissal he gathered up his parts and nodded his head and walked out of the shop. He could have kicked himself for not saying anything to that beautiful woman, and now he would never see her again. Shoving his hat on in frustration he put his newly acquired pieces into the inside pocket of his jacket.   
  
“Wait! Excuse me!” He turned and brushed some of his sandy hair out of his eyes and took in the sight before him. It was the woman from the shop. Was she calling after him? Did she mean to? Did she realize how radiant she looked at this moment? Her tanned skin and eyes glowed in the sun and the smile on her face could have stopped his heart. Luc wanted to commit every aspect of this moment to memory so months from now when he was so many miles away he could recall how beautiful this woman looked and pretend that she was his for any length of time at all.   
  
Time seemed to pick back up as she hustled over to him, straightened her hat, and smiled again. “Did I hear Mister Rolland correctly, you are part of the act that just came to town, the Moonlight Carnival?”   
  
Luc was still stunned, the smile on the woman’s face faltered when he didn’t answer. He realized he was staring at her face and finally brought himself back to the present and answered, “ _ Oui _ , yes. I am.”   
  
Her smile returned. “Fascinating. Tell me, will I see you when I attend with my family tomorrow night?” The bag she had in the shop was slung on her arm and she pressed her smile into a crooked mischievous grin and looked to him from under her lashes.    
  
Was she, flirting with him? Did she mean to? Two could play at that game, donning a little of his stage persona he swaggered down the street with her in tow.   
  
“Perhaps I am, Miss...?”   
  
“And what makes you think you deserve to know my name in this first conversation, sir? I was simply inquiring, if you were a performer or a stagehand and if I might recognize you.”   
  
“What makes you think you would have been able to find me during the show, anyway? I could also be sparing you, I don't want you to be so distracted by me that you miss the acts. Perhaps, once you see me you won’t be able to take your eyes off me,  _ mademoiselle _ ,” Luc stopped to lean against a brick wall and stared right into her eyes as she came to settle in front of him, “and you'll have to keep your wits so you don't lose yourself to the night.” The woman continued to smile as Luc added, reigning his persona back in, “Or I could be a stagehand, you may only see me in the shadows moving things about.”   
  
She barked out a laugh and crossed her arms. “Or, perhaps sir, knowing I am in the audience might distract you so much that you may forget your act, or drop a table on your foot.”   
  
Luc smiled, he was definitely going to be distracted tomorrow thinking of her watching him. He enjoyed the widening of her eyes as she took in his smile. He felt electric, and dropping the swagger entirely he reached his hand out as an offering. “Luc, Luc Smith, that is my true name. Not the part I play in the show.”   
  
She warmed, dropping her pretenses as she took his hand, “You may call me Miri. I wish you luck tomorrow, maybe I’ll see you again one day?”    
  
Again, his heart stopped dead. How many times has his heart stopped in the last 10 minutes? The current racing through his hand arced into hers and he bent to kiss the back of her hand.    
  
He pulled back, both of them breathless. “I overheard it’s almost your sister’s birthday, I’ll leave a special pass for Ms. Miri at the box office. It will permit your family to a special meet and greet with the performers after the show. Consider it an early present from you to her.”   
  
“Oh, I couldn’t.” Her hand was still in his, people were starting to watch them now as they stood together with the rest of the city ebbing and flowing around them.   
  
“Please, I’m dying to earn your name Ms. Miri. Maybe I could even help you with that contraption you’re making, I am also one of the carnival mechanics.”   
  
Still holding his hand.   
  
“A jack of all trades then,” was she breathless? Was he still in London?   
  
“It would seem. Please, meet me after the show?” He had never desired for anyone like this before, was the desperation showing in his voice? He had to see her again. Luc would do anything she wanted to just have a guarantee that he would have another moment to remember her by, to see her smile.   
  
She finally dropped his hand and stepped back, flexing and curling her fingers as she did.    
  
“Until then, Luc.”   
  
He was rooted to the spot, watching her as she backed away until she finally turned and disappeared down the street. Whispering soft curses to himself he made his way back to the inn to his father, back to the show and his performing family.   
  
To get ready for the show of his life.


	2. Welcome to the Midnight Carnival

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Miri and her family prepare to attend the Midnight Carnival.

Miri couldn’t quite grasp what had just happened. She pushed open the door to her house and was greeted with the riotous noise that usually accompanied her family wherever they went. She heard Pari and Marguerite laughing uncontrollably and then her father raising his voice over them as he tried to continue on telling a story about the time he and my mother were investigating a case and he ended up covered in honey and feathers while my mother literally drove the getaway carriage to save them from a confrontation with a very angry gangster.

She chuckled to herself, she loved that story. And the fact that Maggie was even laughing along was something, at 15 she was in that stage of finding her footing in the world and London society. Miri was always headstrong, like her parents, and knew that she was interested in engineering and sciences and growing up in a house of experiments delighted her to no end. Where Maggie respected science but enjoyed the arts more. Taking painting lessons from father, and attending the ballet with our mother's cousin and her daughter was what made her shine. She even enjoyed the etiquette lessons and parties thrown at their house so often people were usually confused when trying to remember how many children our aunt had.

Floating through the house, she quickly looked in the kitchen to see her father and sisters covered in frosting with cookies surrounding them, the staff passing through with stressed expressions as they took in the carnage she chuckled and kept walking to the back doors. There was no way she was walking into that mess.

She stepped into the garden and saw her mother lounging on an outdoor chaise, sunning her bad leg and reading a book. Mum was wearing one of her preferred outfits that she often wore around the house, a pair of tailored pants and a button-down shirt much like the one Miri wore herself tucked into her skirt. She had special outfits made for each of the girls, for Miri it was separate skirts and shirts, pants and a specially made tool belt so when she was working she could have everything she needed a reach away. For Maggie, it was looser skirts and shirts for when she was painting or sculpting made out of light fabrics since she often set up in some of the hottest rooms of the house. And Pari, she was finding her own style. Still enjoying those last few moments of being a child in dresses before she was thrown into the light of society, no matter how hard my parents tried to keep them out. The sisters were stunning, each taking on the best features of their parents and while Miri wished she didn’t notice the way men stared as they were in town together, she did.

The long cold winter was hard on her mother. Rarely ever did she sit out of going to scenes with her father or running experiments in their lab, but this past season she had a terrible time navigating the stairs of their home. Miri had never seen their father so out of sorts, he always finds a solution for any situation or has a sarcastic quip to diffuse the moment, but he just carried mum around whispering into her ear as they walked. She caught him in his study reading the same journals over and over about nerves and pain, trying to find anything to help her get through the bitter winter. Now that spring was finally approaching, they were all hoping the bad days would be fewer with the warmer, dryer weather and she would be able to move around easier. 

Nothing is more dangerous than trying to keep Miri's mother in the house, even when it is for her own good. This winter alone everyone had new outfits, the library had been reorganized three times and their schedules were meticulously planned.

Miri really had to show her mother what she had been working on lately. Her parents thought she had only been making toys and trinkets, but she had started working on different projects after she was inspired by a medical book her father had left out one night. She hoped that mum would be impressed and maybe have some suggestions to improve the design Miri had been toiling away on the last few months.

Glancing up from her book, her mother smiled and shifted her legs so she could take a seat on the edge of the chaise. “Miriana my little wonder, did you find what you needed for Pari’s present?”

She had started rubbing her hand again, she had totally forgotten about discussing the machine with Mister Rolland. So distracted by the mysterious man that had appeared beside her with bits of machinery and eyes that looked like an endless supply of honey, so warm and curious. His hair was this sandy gold color, darker at the roots and almost platinum at the tips and a touch longer than the men in London were currently wearing it.

“Oh no, I know that look. Sit back, tell me everything. Who is he what happened?”

Her mother may have a brilliant mind, but when it came to boys and gossip she was a teenager. And not so secretly, Miri loved it. She loved the relationship she had with her family. That her mother doted on them, refusing governesses and opting only for nannies during the day when she and Miri’s father were working. That her father often got roped into tea parties with big floppy hats and dresses even when he had his Lordly duties to attend to.

But Miri wasn’t usually so intense when it came to meeting handsome men, she usually came home every few months after a party spilling to her mother about the boys that were finally growing into their gangly arms and legs, but none of them held her interest for long. She found herself interested more and more with her advancements in her secret projects.

Miri looked into her mother's emerald eyes and huffed out a big breath, a smile creeping over her face as she found the words. Dropping her eyes from her mother's, Miri suddenly found the buttons on her sleeve very interesting. Fiddling with the shiny buttons as the silence stretched on.

“He was in the clock shop when I went to speak to Mister Rolland. He was picking up some parts, it looked as if he was building some sort of large contraption. His clothes looked brand new, almost like he had never worn them but they were still in fashion. His eyes were this gorgeous honey color and his hair was this sandy blond that shone like gold in the sun, and his accent, mum, his accent was this odd mix of French and English. It was so endearing.”

“Wow, deep breath dragă fată, take it easy. What’s his name?”

“Luc,” she dreamily sighed staring at the pavers in the garden, “he’s part of the Moonlight Carnival.” At that, her mother stiffened but Miri continued on, “He actually overheard it was Pari’s birthday and he left me special tickets so we can all go back and meet the performers after the show.”

“That's...great, love.”

Miri looked at her mother’s face and felt so stupid. “Mum, oh no, God, I’m so sorry. You know what, maybe we should just pass. Or maybe I could see if someone else wants to go with us?” Of course her mother was wary of attending the carnival her Aunt Liza had been kidnapped by a performer while they were all trapped on a cruise ship, her father had nearly been stabbed, and her mother almost died when she took the knife to her leg that was intended for Miri's father when they weren’t even courting yet.

Her mother's sharp features honed in on Miri’s tone, the look of a challenge crossing her face.

“What is our family name, my wonder?”

Miri furrowed her brow and was about to answer the obvious question right as her father and sisters came barging out of the back of the house, all covered in frosting and coconut shavings cawing out of the door and flapping their arms like birds. This was why their family, while her parents were famous for their research and cases, and even though they were high born, were still considered outcasts by society. Often they were invited to events on their notoriety alone, but they often made people uncomfortable with their outward and affection with each other no matter where they were and for their odd behavior. But this joy and fire that she felt with them were all she needed to feel included in the world, she loved her family so much it was hard to care about what the world thought.

As they both took in the sight, Miri glanced back at her mother and the love that shone in her face as she took in her family. The smile that played on her lips, the slight crinkle of skin around the corners of her eyes. Miri hoped to be as stunning as her mother when she grew older.

“Cresswell, mum, we’re the Cresswells.”

Miri's mother looked back, the bright shade of her emerald green eyes shining in the sun as she drew her attention away from her husband and daughters. She was so stunning, she was so proud to be the daughter of Thomas and Audrey Rose Cresswell. 

“Exactly, and when something seems uncomfortable it’s probably because there’s some sort of unfinished business to attend to. I wouldn’t miss this for the world. To share this with my family, to simply enjoy and not worry about a case or what could happen to your father or Aunt Liza. We will all go, we will be amazed, we will lose our hearts and heads to this midnight minstrel show and meet this boy of yours.”

A smile bloomed across Miriana’s face as her father walked over to them and planted a kiss on my mother’s mouth. Their love was the kind that she wanted, one that allowed the other to flourish and grow as a person, but also as a couple. 

She wasn’t naive enough to think that Luc could be that person after just one meeting, but she had never felt that way about anyone before after meeting them. Like an electric current was still buzzing under her skin from when they touched hours earlier on the street. But she smiled and felt that current surge when she thought of trying to find him among the performers tonight.

“Can’t wait,” Miri whispered.

 

Miri was transfixed before they had even taken their seats. She almost hadn't gone to the box office, too anxious that maybe Luc had forgotten her and couldn't face that embarrassment of asking for the passes that weren’t waiting for her. Thankfully she had only told her mother so if he forgot she wouldn't have to deal with her sister's disappointment that they wouldn't be meeting the performers after the show.

But since her mother knew, she had all but shoved Miri towards the office while her father raised a skeptical brow as she met with the woman working.

“Hello, I believe there's a pass that was left here for me by a Luc Smith? My name is Miri.”

The woman raised both brows and looked through a box in front of her. “You must be someone, he's never had anyone come watch him before.”

That made her pause, “No one? Not even his parents?”

The woman laughed again, “Don’t you know his father is in the show too? There’s a line, enjoy yourself.”

The abruptness of her dismissal stung but looking down at the black shiny ticket with a green scalpel slicing a moon a smile spread across her face. As she rushed back to meet back up with her family, they had already found the concessions all munching on some sort of treat. Her father and Pari were entirely covered in powdered sugar from their fried cake.

“What do you have there cel mic? A treat for your loving father?”

“It appears that you’ve already had yours, tata. No, I have a surprise for Pari, guess what we’re doing after the show?”

“Going out for a walk and ignoring our proper bedtimes?” Pari piqued.

A scoff from our mother, “No we’re meeting all the performers we have a special pass! Just wait until you tell your friends about it, they’ll be absolutely green with envy.”

Pari squealed and Maggie even let her excitement show, but she didn’t miss the look passed between her parents. There was definitely something going on with them, but now wasn’t the time to try and pry. Not when her sisters were practically vibrating with excitement, and not when the promise of seeing Luc again was real and tangible. 

“Come on,” she stepped between her sisters and linked arms with them, “let’s go and find our seats!”

 

Luc was still having trouble getting his thoughts together. His father was straightening the lapels of Luc’s deep red jacket and was looking him over. This was a big night for both of them for more than one reason. This was the first time Luc was going to be beside his father in the ring during the whole show. 

His father turned from him and donned his emerald green jacket, the color reminded him a little of Miri’s eyes. Now that he was pacing in the big tent he was realizing how much emerald had wormed its way into the theme of the show. Tickets had an emerald green scalpel slicing the moon, there were emerald green silk roses that were brought out at each stop, and as soon as his father had started grooming Luc to take over the show, he had the new suits made one emerald green, the other still the deep red and both had silver thread accents.

They both had their masks and top hats on. The silver shone brightly against the deep tan of his father’s skin and dark hair.

“Are you ready? You’ve been distracted this is a big night.”

“Oui, I’m just a little thrown.” He decided that he had to tell his father, “I met someone earlier when I went out for parts. She’s coming to the show with her family. I’m just a petit anxieux that she won’t like the show, or me after it.”

His father pulled him back, “You may fall in love, or have your heart broken. I guess it is appropriate that we’re staying in the same place so long so you may have the chance to find out.”

Luc took in a deep breath and nodded. This was who he was, this carnival saved his life. It was why he and his father took the last name Smith, a chance to escape their pasts and start over. It was all he had ever known, standing beside his father in the ring was all he ever wanted. He heard the murmur of the crowd as performers whirred by them to get to their opening positions.

Then the drums started. And no matter what was happening in his life, those drums always calmed and soothed him. Allowed him to mask not just his face, but his personality as well sliding into his stage persona.

The drums stopped, the lights went out, and he followed his father into the center of the ring using the faint light from the glowworms on the floor the performers hit their marks. This was the most crucial part of the setup, one mark being an inch off could cause serious harm to not only the performers but the audience as well.

Stepping up to their marks Luc’s father looked over at him and raised one of his brows, he gave a small nod back.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Mephistopheles said, voice echoing throughout the tent. He paused then looked to his left, “Welcome to the show.” Luc responded.

The drums sounded again, we could see the audience turning in their seats, trying to find the source of our voices. Building and building until silence, we dropped out smoke bombs and the blinding spotlight shone upon us.

“Allow us to introduce ourselves, I am Mephistopheles,” his voice resonated through the tent as he stepped out of the smoke, moving to the side and motioning for me to introduce myself for the first time ever.

No matter how many times he had assisted during the show he had never come out during the opening monologue. His whole life it had always been the same, we could all say it in our sleep and now it was Luc’s turn.

“And I, am Lupeux.”

And then the show began.

 

As soon as the lights came up she didn't miss the soft gasp that came from her mother, or the fact that she was crushing her father's hand in her grip.

“...I am Mephistopheles.” One of the men in a deep green jacket said, his voice traveling around to all the ears in the tent.

Then a pause, as the second man took off his hat and Miri stilled. The smoke curled around the pair but as the light shone down on them became brighter as the air in the ring dissipated there was no mistaking it. Miri gasped. It couldn't be him, but his hair was shining gold in the lights and she could have sworn she saw his eyes from their seats.

“And I, am Lupeux.” The lights went out again. His laugh casting into different corners of the tent. “Once you fall into my spell, you will never tire of my voice. You will crave it after you leave and search for me in the night, you will walk to the water's edge searching for me…”

The tone of his voice--she recognized that hint of swagger he donned when they had flirted on the street but this...it felt different. He sounded dangerous, she would have followed that voice into any of the dark alleys in London, she would have followed him anywhere.

An eerie silence settled until she felt the voice behind her, almost whispering into her ear but still loud enough that it could be heard throughout the tent, “...will you lose your heart to me?” Then suddenly the lights were blinding with the voice booming through the entire grounds. “Or will you lose more?” A knife shot out of his sleeve and whizzed towards the man Mephistopheles who vanished in a puff of smoke. The lights blacked out and a moment later the knife embedded itself into something hard, the lights turned on to show a woman strapped to a spinning wheel with the knife buried to the hilt next to her throat.

The audience broke out into applause. Miri smiled over at her sisters, the joy on their faces as they whispered excitedly back and forth. The show had barely begun and they were grinning so hard the corners of their eyes were crinkled. Her heart felt like it could burst, she was so happy to be sharing this moment with her sisters, her parents. Even Luc, and she barely knew him.

“Esteemed audience from London, please indulge your senses in the greatest show from sea to sea, “ the first man, Mephistopheles said, stepping out from behind the wheel spinning it so quickly flames burst from the edges. The two men walked in tandem to the center of the ring as Luc finished, “Welcome to our midnight minstrel show otherwise known as, the Moonlight Carnival.”

As transfixed as she was, she recalled what her mother had said in the garden as the performers began to assemble in the tent. She had said that same thing. She turned to her parents as her mother met Miri’s eyes, giving a small nod.

It was the same carnival that has maimed her mother, almost murdered her father. 

Miri’s evening just got more complicated.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading :)


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